357 Mr. Mumr called for Mr. Dickey. While Mr. Dickey was coming, Doctor MacDonald said, " If I get out, I'm figuring on leaving this country." " Leaving?" Mr. Munn echoed, surprise in his tone. Doctor MacDonald nodded. "Yeah," he replied, adding, " but not so quick anybody'd think he was running me out." Mr. Munn did not answer for an instant. "Where you going?" he then asked. He was aware of the unevenness in his own voice. That unevenness, which he noticed, de- tachedly as in the voice of another person, defined for him the sense of confusion, betrayal, that at Doctor MacDonald's words had moved smally, almost innocently, in him, like the first tremor of a landslip. " Out West somewhere, I reckon," Doctor MacDonald was saying matter-of-factly. "Arizona, New Mexico, I don't know. Somewhere where people haven't caught up with themselves yet." Mr. Dickey was coming, his keys jangling as he searched for the right one. "I'm not staying round here," Doctor MacDonald added. " I might get used to the way this country stinks." By seven o'clock in the morning on the first day of the trial of Doctor MacDonald on charges of conspiracy and arson, the courthouse square was crowded. The troops kept the courthouse yard clear. When the doors were opened, the troops permitted only five or six men at a time to approach the building, and at the door each man was searched for arms. By half-past eight word came out that the courtroom was full. Although the crowd thinned somewhat, it did not disperse. The people were restless, but unusually silent. When Mr. Munn and Professor Ball and his daughters walked from the hotel to the courthouse, people made way for them, gazing curiously at the faces of the women, and after they had passed, talking in low tones, identifying them. Now and then a man would speak to Professor Ball, who would raise the bandaged right hand in a kind of grave salute.